


Toy Soldier

by HypotheticalHunters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst and Tragedy, Drama, Family, Friendship, Gen, Kid Winchesters, Little Winchesters, Wee!chesters, tragic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-15 02:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5767774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HypotheticalHunters/pseuds/HypotheticalHunters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Sam Winchester always wanted the one thing he never had. Now he’s the only one in his family left, and with his girlfriend gone, he’s all alone and he must fight a war that he didn’t even know existed until a few days ago. Family doesn’t end with blood, but blood doesn’t always mean family either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam sat, cross legged, on the floor of yet another less than clean motel room he was sharing with his family. If not for the two beds being at the left hand side of the door, he would have found it hard to differentiate from the countless others they had stayed in over the past few years. The same damp kitchenette with the same leaky tap and the same cupboards that wouldn’t close correctly. The same dingy bathroom with the shower that constantly ran cold, the toilet that needed far more than bleaching; and possibly the worst thing about all the motels in america, the same old, flat mattresses with springs poking out of every direction, barely managing to hold themselves together.To Sam, all of these rooms had looked the same; the different tacky patterned walls and dirty carpets all seemed to merge into one in his head. He was only 6 years old, but he was already bored of all the same things. The only thing that made any of this acceptable, was the company; every time he travelled, and every room he stayed in, it was with his dad and his big brother, Dean. Dad never got Dean a bed of his own, and Sam was sure it was because they were brothers, and brothers shared. Dad never made food for Dean, but Sam didn’t mind sharing his bowl with him - in fact, Sam was more than happy to share everything with Dean. They were brothers, after all. The one thing that Sam did find strange though, is that Dad never said a word to Dean, never kissed him goodbye or waved him good morning - never even spoke about him. It was almost like dad didn’t want to believe Dean existed. He, of course, knew better, because if Dean didn’t exist then Dean wouldn’t be sat on the floor across from him, legs also crossed, staring at his little brother. 

“Pew, pew, pew!” An imitation of gun noises came from Dean’s mouth as the small, green toy soldiers stormed the enemy barracks of the motel carpet. Sam copied him, toys in both hands as the remainder of them lay dead or discarded on the floor. “Watch out, solider! Enemy gunfire at 4 o’clock!” Dean ordered, figures bouncing up and down in his fingers. Sam moved his hand sharply to the side, making his own soldiers turn and shoot behind them.  
“Wow, we nearly died” Sam giggled, resulting in a loud laugh coming from behind him and a hand ruffling his hair.  
“I hope not, I like having my Sammy alive.” John Winchester grinned, reaching down to pull his son into his arms. For six years old he was still quite small, and John had no trouble at all still carrying him like he was still a toddler.  
“It’s okay, Daddy.” Sam promised him “Dean saved us” The man shifted uncomfortably, before lowering Sam back down to the ground. He patted him on the head and turned away, grabbing his coat off the hook on the wall and bag by the door.  
“Okay, sammy.” He sighed, avoiding the statement. “Daddy has to go out for a little while but he’ll be back soon. Remember...”  
“...Bed when I get sleepy” Sam nodded, interrupting him.  
“Good boy” John walked back over and kissed his forehead “Food’s on the table if you get hungry” Sam nodded again as his Dad walked out the door, and he heard the sound of the lock clicking after him. When he was gone, Sam sat back down, dropping the soldiers to the floor.  
“Dean?” He frowned, now pouting. “Why does daddy never say bye-bye to you?”  
“Just because he doesn’t say it doesn’t mean he doesn’t mean to. He just forgets. Now c’mon, we’ve been playing all night-we should get some food” He stood up, and grabbed Sam’s hand-escorting him to the table where a box of lucky charms sat next to a bowl and spoon. The elder boy helped the younger pour a bowl of cereal, and get the milk from the fridge, before helping him climb up to his chair. As always, Sam offered his brother a spoonful, but, as always, Dean shook his head.  
“You never ever want any” Sam pointed out, as he did every time Dean refused his offerings.  
“I’m just never hungry” Dean shrugged. “Never have been”  
“But Lucky Charms are yummy!”  
“I believe you, Sammy” He smirked. In all his six years of life Sam had never once seen his brother eat, or sleep-for that matter. He guessed it was a normal thing for a ten year old to do, maybe when he got that old he’d stop doing those things too. Dean had told him once that little boys like Sam needed food to grow big and strong, and old people like their dad needed it to make sure they didn’t die. Boys Deans age were already big enough, and weren’t at risk of dying of old age anytime soon, so there was obviously just no need for it. It all made perfect sense. It didn’t stop Sam from getting disappointed though, how could Dean go without even wanting to try the cereal? “Hurry up and eat. You need to go to bed soon.” Dean interrupted Sams train of thought, causing him to frown again.  
“But Dad said when i get sleepy”  
“I know what dad said but look at you, you’re already yawning” Sam shook his head, but he couldn’t deny it anymore. He had already started yawning and rubbing his eyes before his dad had even left. Dean was right. “Not before brushing your teeth and putting your pyjamas on” Sam grumbled, but, once he had finished eating, did as he was asked. Some nights he’d be willing to put up more of a fight, but was starting to learn that maybe it was just easier to do as his brother said. The only times he made any sort of full objection recently was when he really didn’t want to sleep. He used to not listen to Dean at all, especially when they were on their own, but he soon came to realise that dad wasn’t going to be around very much, so he needed his brother. Where Dad went, Sam didn’t know. He used to try asking Dean if he knew, but the elder Winchester only seemed to know as much as he did-that their dad would vanish almost every night and not come back for long time-sometimes even for almost an entire day.

Once Sam had crawled into bed, tucked under the scratchy covers and light turned off, Dean sat at the edge of his bed. “Want a bedtime story?” He asked, and Sam nodded. “Okay, well..” He hesitated “Once upon a time there was a young prince named Sam, and his awesome older brother, Dean. The sons of King John, they were some day going to own all of the entire kingdom. Or they would if there was any kingdom left to own, as one day a dragon attacked-planning to burn the whole place down…” By the time the kingdom had been saved and the brothers had destroyed the dragon-Dean doing most of the work and taking most of the glory-Sam had already fallen asleep. Dean smiled slightly, laying by his brothers side and closing his eyes-silently promising to stay and watch him until morning. A few hours later, just as the sun was rising, John Winchester came back to his motel room to look around and see nothing but his youngest son asleep in his bed. Sam's arms wrapped tight around the blanket, cuddling it to his chest like he did every night. John sighed, concern setting into his face. He knew Sam had been through a lot, but by now he’d expected things to be different, and for the boy to be at least a little better- at least for him to have stopped all of the play and pretend like this. Oh well he thought, hopefully someday soon Sam would come to accept the truth, no matter how hard that might be.


	2. Chapter 2

Just over a week later, they were packed up and back on the road. John sat, steering wheel in hand, with Sam next to him in the front seat. The only sounds came from the roaring of the engine of the 67 Impala and the low hum of Led Zeppelin’s Stairway to Heaven playing through the speakers. John had just wrapped up his latest hunt and it was time to move on. He had already found his next case, but had decided it was time that Sam had a break. The young boy was obviously clueless to what John actually did for a living and he wanted to keep it that way as long as possible. He had subtly started teaching him how to handle himself when the inevitable time came for Sam to start hunting; taking him for shooting lessons, teaching him how to draw sigils and devils traps - albeit in crayon but at least he would be prepared. For now, though, Sam had been on the road long enough and it only felt fair to give him a vacation of sorts. 

Singer salvage wasn’t exactly the top vacation spot in the country, but for them it was as good as any. They rolled into the yard just as the sun was setting, a sleepy eyed Sam struggling to stay awake. “C’mon kiddo” John nudged him gently “Time to go and see uncle Bobby” Sam yawned and rubbed his eyes, mumbling almost unintelligibly.   
“Okay Dean, we’re here…”  
“No, Sammy, it’s Daddy” John frowned, getting out of the car and walking around to the other side to lift Sam into his arms. Sam laid his head on his dad’s shoulder as they walked round to the house. The crunch of gravel under John's feet only interrupted by loud, angry barking coming from Bobby’s truck.  
“Shut it, ya mangy mutt.” Bobby grunted as he walked down his porch steps towards the pair approaching him. The German Shepherd known as Carter soon settled when he knew there was no danger and sat back at his post on guard duty. Bobby stood aside, patting John on the back as the Winchester walked past to bring his son into the house and settle him down on the sofa where he could sleep. John sat by his feet, and brushed the long brown bangs out of Sam’s face. He was fast asleep, breathing heavily, and, squirmed as his dad stood up. John stopped and stared at him for a moment, in case he’d woken him, but he slept straight on. 

Once he knew Sam was okay, he headed straight for the kitchen, specifically the fridge to grab himself a beer.   
“That’s fine, just help ya self” Bobby scoffed sarcastically, yet gestured for John to pass him a bottle too. They drank in silence for a moment as John took a seat at the table in the middle of the room. He put his hand over his mouth and drew it down, rubbing his stubble, before sighing. Taking another swig of his drink, he could feel Bobby's eyes watching him. The elder man scoffed, adjusting himself as he leaned on the counter “C’mon, spit it out.” John’s eyes looked up as Bobby spoke, meeting the other man's. “What’s going on with you and that kid?”   
“Not now, Bobby. We just got here.”  
“And I know that look. You ain’t planning on sticking around.” John Sighed again, Bobby was right. He was planning to be back on the road again by morning, if not before. In his mind, the earlier the better.   
“There’s nothing going on, Bobby.”  
“Hell there ain’t! I know those looks you’re giving me, and I can tell when there’s something wrong with that boy whether he’s sleeping or not. That face of yours says it all.” He sighed “Whether he’s alright or not you ain’t, and that way you were looking at him when you laid him down? Something’s gone on.” He paused “This about Dean?” John swallowed hard, looking back down to the table and shifting in his seat. At the mention of Dean’s name, the tension in the room seemed to rise almost as quickly as the colour drained from Johns already sickly, tired looking face. The silence between the two men was anxious and impatient, putting a pressure on the Winchester man that would seem to either force him to speak or eventually choke him.   
“And Mary.” The answer was short and urgent, almost trying to avoid the question.  
“This ain’t just that. You’ve been shooting for revenge for almost the past 6 god damn years and-”  
“Sam doesn’t understand.” He looked up, and cleared his throat “He doesn’t get it. His mother? He doesn’t seem to have a problem with that but-”  
“John, that boy was six months old. He never had a Dean to know, to understand that Dean was there.” Bobby cut him off, as had been done to him a moment earlier. “You tellin’ him stories, of course he’s gonna be going through some shit. Alone on the road out there ain’t no life for a kid like that. You know I respect you, John and I will do my damn best to support you and especially that boy, but don’t go taking it out on him cause he’s lonely and feeding off some happy ending you been telling him”   
“Not this again, Bobby.” John’s tone grew agitated. They had discussed this far too many times already, and John did not want to talk about it, not right now. Okay, being a hunter wasn’t an ideal life for a child like Sam, but what other choice did he have? He was doing fine so far. He was a little quiet, but apart from that Sam was as normal a kid as any. “As for that happy endings bullshit?” He sighed, before explaining exactly what had been happening. For months now, Sam had been muttering Dean’s name-sometimes talking as if Dean was actually there.   
“He’s just a kid. He needs his father. He needs ya to-”   
“I think it’s best to leave him here for the next few days, a week or two tops.” John interjected in an attempt to change the subject. He swallowed, and watched as an angry disappointment set into Bobby’s features. There was a harsh pause before his face softened again, after obviously deciding to let the previous subject drop, and John could continue. “Let me finish off my next case, give him a break. Maybe some decent food for a change.”   
“Don’t know if i’d call what i’m serving up decent to a kid” He smiled slightly, as he stood up straight and placed his now empty beer bottle in the trash.. “Never gonna say no to having that boy, but you’re the only blood he got left. Always said that family don’t end with blood, but sometimes blood is just the family ya need the most. Don’t forget that, Winchester.” With that, he vanished upstairs for a second, giving John time to think. He returned with a blanket, which he carefully placed over the sleeping Sam on the couch, before going back to the kitchen. “You know where blankets are if you need em’. Spare rooms free but that boys exhausted, I’m not risking waking him. Get some sleep. You probably got a long journey ahead of ya.”   
“Will do, Bobby.” John nodded, and raised his hand a little off the table in a small salute as Bobby disappeared back up the stairs. John took a final heavy sigh, finishing off his beer before deciding it was also probably a good idea to retire for the night. He settled himself on the floor in the study next to Sam’s couch, and was asleep only moments after closing his eyes. The next morning when Sam woke up, tucked under the covers of the bed in Bobby Singer’s spare room- an empty beer bottle left on the kitchen table and Impala tracks on the dirt driveway outside were the only signs that John Winchester had ever been there that night...


	3. Chapter 3

The sound of bacon sizzling filled the kitchen as Bobby attempted to make sure it didn't burn black-unlike the last two times he'd cooked it. Sam sat at the table, yawning and eyeing the pan hungrily, like a bear just awoken from its hibernation that hadn't been fed for months. It'd been just less than two weeks since John had dropped Sam off and vanished into the night, just less than two weeks since they'd heard from him. The first few days Sam hadn't stopped asking questions, "where's dad gone?", "when's he coming back?", "why didn't he say bye to me or dean this time?"  
It was just like every time John had dumped him there, but-also just like every time-after a few days he settled down and there was no mention of his father, not even in passing. It was strange, really, how after only days away from each other it was like Sam pretended that John didn't exist. It was only when the roar of the engine and slam of a car door could be heard that Sam was even willing to hear the name John.

"Damn, I wish bobby would hurry up with this bacon. You must be starved," Dean grinned, leaning back on his chair. "At least here we get Bacon. Dad probably couldn't cook it if he tried."  
"Bobby doesn't make it nice sometimes" Sam frowned.  
"What was that?" Bobby turned from the pan, "I didn't hear a word ya sed'" When Sam didn't reply, Bobby shook his head. Using his spatula, he flipped his bacon onto a plate and turned off the stove. Sliding the plate in front of Sam, he went to pull out a seat at the table.  
"NO, That's Dean's seat!"  
"Dean's se-? Oh right." He sighed, taking the seat across from it instead. "This better?" Sam nodded, picking up a piece of bacon and chewing it slowly.  
"Here" Bobby passed him a napkin to wipe the shiny grease of his hands, but Sam left it in the middle of the table.  
"I bet that grease tastes as good as the bacon" Dean smiled. Sam stuck his fingers in his mouth, wiping them with his tongue to lick off all the grease, causing Bobby to cringe.  
"That's gross, boy." Sam laughed, almost giggling as he licked his lips. At least this bacon had worked out better than the last couple of batches. "After breakfast how about me and you go toss that ball around?"  
"Sounds good to me." Dean shrugged, "Can't hate baseball. Me and you can be on a team together, Sammy." Sam nodded, swallowing the last of his bacon and again licking his fingers.  
"I've never played baseball before. We watch it sometimes on TV"  
"Get that down you then, don't see why today can't be a first."

Sam bolted up and was out the door before Bobby even had time to stand, Dean ran behind him just as quickly and tackled him to the ground, laughing. "Bet you can't get up."  
"Deeean, get off"  
"C'mon sammy, it's just a bit of fun. but hmm...Maybe if you ask nicely."  
"Deeeeeeeeeean" Sam groaned, pouting. Dean laughed again, rolling onto the ground next to him. Sam waited for the day he would be big enough to push dean off when he did that-or even better, do it back to him.  
"Hey, Kiddo, you Okay?" Bobby rushed over, and bent down to help Sam up.. "I saw you trip. Could have been a nasty fall" Sam blinked, dumbfounded, and looked down to Dean; who was still laid on the floor.  
"I'm okay" He nodded, smiling sheepishly. "Can we play now?"  
"'Course we can. Here. go long. Let's see how well you do." He ran as Bobby threw the fall through the air, and it soared over his head. "That's okay, we'll try again. You wanna go get that or should I?"

Once an hour or two had passed, Sam had almost mastered being able to catch the ball (he still needed to work on his throwing, he couldn't throw very far. Dean had sat on the sidelines the entire time, on the hood of one of the many cars in Bobby's yard. The sun was rising higher in the sky, and they showed no signs of going inside any time soon. Not until Sam needed the bathroom, and Bobby escorted him back into the house. When the young boy came back downstairs, Bobby hushed him for a moment as he spoke into the phone.  
"...Don't know, John. You can't keep doing this." A pause "Yeah, I get you're passing through but in the middle of a case? You really wanna-?" Another pause "Okay, yeah. See you tonight." Then he hung up.  
"Dean says you were talking to daddy"  
"Uh, Yeah." Bobby nodded "He's coming to see you today. Your Dad's coming back again"  
"This means we've gotta leave Bobby's." Dean frowned, wrapping his arm around Sam "Dad looks after us though, right? I mean, the food sucks and it's not as fun as it is here but he's dad."  
"I like it here, Uncle Bobby." Sam whined, and Bobby sighed.  
"I know," he pursed his lips "But your Dad's a good guy. Why don't you ask him if you can play baseball together, huh?"  
"We go playing with guns. Deans better than me but he teaches me and Dad says i'll be good one day, but i want to play with balls"  
"Me and you can still play Ball, Sammy. Everyday if you want." Dean promised, and Sam nodded, cuddling into him.  
"You tell your dad Uncle Bobby says you have to play ball, okay? I'll tell him too. And hey, it won't be forever, i'll see you again before you can say burnt Bacon" Sam smiled at that, as bobby picked him up-pulling him away from Dean. "Now how about we go and finish that game?" They played for the rest of the day, until the impala rolled into the auto-salvage yard once again. Dean missed every shot they threw at him, and he was no better at throwing. Sam got better with each go, and by the end of the day was what Bobby would call "pretty darn good for a kid your age." It was only when Sam heard a car door Slam, and footsteps on gravel outside he ran over to Bobby and gave him a hug. Looking up, wide-eyed and tearful, Sam pouted"...I don't want to go"

* * *

"I don't want to go."  
"Don't be dumb. You need to. Practice makes perfect." John Winchester scoffed at the boy sat on the old motel bed. Sam rolled his eyes, brushing his long hair out of his face, and looking up from the floor.  
"Dad. i'm 13. i'm not a kid anymore.I don't want to go and shoot guns. I want to do what I want to do."  
"What you want to do? You mean sit here all day and read?  
"Homework? School? friends? I want to be normal."  
"You know this, Sam. We're not normal."  
"Why can't we be? because you say so?"  
"Get your bag. We're going."  
"Dad."  
"No buts, Sam. We're going. Now."

"I have school today, we can't just run off again. I get my marks back from my test!" John paused before answering, his breathing getting heavier as his anger grew.  
"We can have your teacher email them. Most boys your age would be grateful for a day off school." He said, calmly.  
"Most boys my age have never even seen a gun in person. Most boys my age have a house, and don't move three schools in the space of a month!"  
"At least you're going to school!"  
"I don't get it, dad. Why do we have to do this? Even living with Uncle Bobby would be better than this mess!"  
"You want to be normal so bad?" John raised his voice, causing sam to flinch and shuffle back on the mattress. "Most normal boys your age don't still have imaginary friends, Sam! Most normal boys your age deal with their life and get on with it instead of constantly trying to get something they can't have. Most normal boys your age would have accepted that their brother was dead." Sam looked over to Dean, who was sat next to him silently, head in hands. He would be there to comfort Sam was this was over, as he always did, but for now he stayed out of the way of it all. There were tears in Sam's eyes now, but John was just getting angrier. He didn't think he'd ever seen his Dad this angry before.  
"Dean is my brother, and my best friend and at least he's here. At least he's here and always has been."  
"And i haven't?"  
"You're making me shoot guns and move around and you don't tell me why. You never tell me why. You're never here, and I never get a reason apart from "work." What work, dad? I do everything you ever ask and I don't get an answer." There were tears streaming down his face now. Dean had sat up, and had his arm once again wrapped around his little brother. John glared down on him, eyes burning with a rage Sam only ever saw when his dad had had a particularly very bad day at work.  
"Sammy, I don't expect you to understand." John scoffed, looking down at the floor then back up again, running his hand down his face. "I'm not going to put you in danger. I can't lose you too." There was a pause, before sam sniffed, and seemed to laugh "..You can't lose what you never had, Dad." John gulped, and closed his eyes. There was a tense silence before he opened them again.

"Sammy, I'm sorry. You needed me, and I get that. I'm here now. I get you want school, and you want friends, but this work-these jobs-they're important to me. I'll tell you one day, when I know you can keep yourself safe, but now? right now? Your head's in the clouds and you're too much of a risk. You want school, and a girlfriend, and when I'm not here you're on your own. I can't leave you to fight what I do alone, Sam, It has to be a mutual trust. Try and go with me on this, just for a little longer, and i'll tell you everything. I promise."  
"You know he means me, right?" Dean interrupted, causing sam to frown, and sniffle. "He doesn't care about school, or any of that. He won't tell you because you still believe in me." There was a pause, and Sam watched John's patience going as he didn't answer him "Dad doesn't want to tell you anything because of me. Because i'm still here, even though i'm not meant to be."

"I'm never going to stop believing in you, Dean…" Sam mumbled "No matter what Dad says. Screw him and his work." John's face dropped, his eyebrows furrowing.  
"You need to grow up, Sam. Join the real world." He shook his head, picking his coat up off the other bed. "We're leaving."  
"I don't care what you tell me, dad." Sam stood up, looking up so he was staring his dad in the eyes "Once you were my hero, but now, i just want Dean, and I want school. We're going to grow up and go to college and have a house and families. And you? You're going to be alone without us." Sam grabbed his bag off the floor, and swung it over his shoulder. "Now are we going or can I go to school?" John scoffed again, copying Sam in picking up his bag and opening the door. Sam snatched the keys to the impala and went to go sit down,waiting for his dad to hand the room keys back to the lady at reception. "You know, Dean?" He smiled, talking louder now the two of them were alone-Dean in the back seat of the car, with Sam in the front passenger seat. "We're gonna do exactly what i said, and we're gonna be happy for once."


End file.
